This post was written before the tragic news in Japan happened. I felt that I couldn’t post it without making an acknowledgement. Especially as I’ve lived in Japan for almost 9 years.

The Japanese people are – unfortunately – forever in fear of earthquakes. They happen so often, although at a much lower-scale than this recent one. They would frequently say that the “Big one is overdue”.

Well, this earthquake – it’s devastating beyond words. Heartbreaking.

I am thinking of and praying hard for my beautiful friends in Tokyo as well as Northern Japan. My loving host-family are also in Northern Japan. The area most hardest hit.

At time of publishing this post, I haven’t been able to reach them. I’m praying for their safety.

*****

6 weeks ago, an unfortunate incident involving red hives, itchy eyes and a birthday cake prompted us to get the twinlets tested for allergies.

We finally found a paediatrician who specializes in children’s allergies. The clinic was a good distance away – over an hour and a half in the car via Sydney’s notorious M7.

But we were desperate. It was either facing an arduous trip or wait until July (!!!) for the next available appointment in the city. And I don’t think you can compromise on your little babies’ health. Especially when it comes to the unknown world of allergies.

Finally , last week, the day arrived for us to head out to our appointment. We were relieved to finally talk to a specialist who could help give some clarity to our concerns.

But to get to some resolutions there was the process of immense pain for the boys. If seeing your sons get their 12 month immunisation shots is difficult to bear – skin tests are heartbreaking.

The boys had their arms “stamped” with a matrix of boxes that indicate what will be tested ie ‘egg’, ‘soy’, ‘cat’, ‘dog’. Then, in the box the doctor dabs a sample of that allergen and administers a prick test in each box.

In total, there are 20 boxes. 10 on each side. And yes, that means a total of 20 sharp razor slits in their pudgy little arms.

Little N's right arm after the skin test

You learn very quickly how strong your little 13 month old munchkins are.

Hubby had the unfortunate task of holding the boys’ arms still as the doctor was conducting the test.

His face went bright red from keeping the feisty, screaming little twinlet’s arm straight. It was like he was having an arm wrestle.

And he was on the verge of losing.

Little K's arm and his "ink"

Alongside the pain and the tears, we were made aware of a whole range of the “Do’s and Don’t’s” to allergy prevention.

For instance, there are apparently 3 common “mistakes” that parents make:

1. Not reading the labels on food packaging

(Did you know that food manufacturers have no legal obligation to label an ingredient that does not contain more than 25% of a product ??? Pretty scary when studies show that all it takes is 1/200th of a single peanut to cause a reaction…)

2. Implicitly trusting other adults in feeding your child

(Managing allergies becomes instilled in a family’s lifestyle. All it takes is for an outsider – a baby-sitter or even a relative to be absent-minded about your child’s allergies).

3. As a form of prevention of allergies for a future baby, studies have actually shown that a pregnant woman is best to avoid bingeing – particularly during the second half of her pregnancy and instead, eat a variety of the food groups.

(Makes things a little tricky when trying to deal with those pregnancy cravings for dairy ice cream-filled Magnums or chocolate…)

So, the test outcomes ?

The good news is that Little N is allergy free. Yay !

The bad news is that poor Little K has an egg allergy and possibly a peanut one as well. Bugger.

Obviously, not the most ideal situation to be in. Luckily, we’re not at a stage where we require the Epipen.

From here on until, well…whenever, it’s all about management, being hyper-vigilant with what the boys eat and even preparing a safe, home environment.

Despite Little N’s results were negative, there is no point in allowing him to eat the foods that his twin brother can’t. Especially in the case of nuts where – in some circumstances – having it on one’s hands, even after washing them, can trigger off a serious reaction.

So, you will find that – for the time being – our home is a completely nut and egg-free zone. We have also changed our lounge room rug to further prevent a dust-mite problem.

Are we being paranoid parents ?

Possibly.

I don’t care.

Scarily, there is still so much undiscovered with children’s allergies.

The extreme of allergy reactions – Anaphylactic shocks – are unpredictable and can be fatal.

I ain’t gonna risk a thing.

So, boys as sad as it may be…no Pavlovas or Opung’s Indonesian peanut sauce based gado-gado salad.

Okay. So, I write a blog. I’m also an addict a regular user of Facebook. So yes, I do expose my life to a large degree, opening it up to comments and opinions.

I guess there are friends – real and virtual – who take up the invitation to drop by and leave their thoughts. Cool. That’s the beauty of social networking.

As a SAHM, these are the tools that keep me sane. They stop me from biting Hubby’s head off after a full-on day with very demanding and active twinlets (Well, most of the time…).

But let’s take that environment away from the cyber world and switch it into the every day.

It is here I am left wondering:

What classifies a random stranger – walking by on the street, in the coffee shop, at the hairdresser’s – to drop their unwarranted opinion ?

Here are some of the examples of someone, barely an acquaintance, that I have crossed paths with who – despite no invitation from me – felt that they just had to let me know what they thought:

The tactless ex-colleague who firstly broke etiquette by inappropriately asking me how old I was. Then in line with his oblivious nature, proceeded to tell me that: “I better get cracking if I want to have babies soon…”

The opinionated mother of fraternal twins who after 30 seconds of meeting, was quick to state that she didn’t think that the boys looked identical. Despite me telling her so. (Lady, I would show you the single placenta that I had keeping them both alive for 35 weeks. Alas, I don’t have the evidence with me here at Mothers’ Group…)

The grumpy old man at the coffee shop who was in a hurry to get his coffee but was hindered by my twin stroller, blocking the entrance. Asking me if I had twins and after I confirmed that I did, he rushed straight past me but still had the cheek to mumble under his breath: “Poor woman…” (Grumpy for a reason, much ?)

The self-important midwife at our local pharmacy who picked at me for giving and using nicknames for my own sons: “You’ve given him a proper name for a reason, dear. No need to start shortening them and making them cutesy.” Then, as if she hadn’t waved her authoritative wand around enough, proceeded to tell me that I was feeding the twinlets too much “orange” food. Yes, it’s true. Apparently, you can have too much healthy organic pumpkin, carrot and sweet potato.

The know-it-all lady at the coffee shop who is sure to let me know that I’m looking tired (Yes, tell me something I don’t know. Hence that’s why I’m here to get some coffeeeeeeee). Ignoring the fact that she doesn’t have a clue in the challenges of rearing twins, she persistently instructs me to sleep when the babies sleep during the day. (Um, yes okay, and I’ll make sure that I have an apple martini as well, because of course, having twins means that I have all the time in the world to have a nap during the day).

The list actually goes on. I haven’t included times when by-passers who – once establishing that we have twinlets – suddenly feel that they are our best friends. As such, know me well enough to ask me if my boys were conceived “naturally” (Well, no we got them mass produced at an Ikea Factory in China…).

Categorically speaking, I guess that’s more a question, albeit a highly-personal one, and not an opinion.

There is a *ahem* chance that I may be just a tad sensitive, these days. But still. I will stand to argue that I know my situation isn’t unusual. I have many friends, who for other circumstances also find themselves unfairly targeted to uncalled- for comments.

There is: the single 30-something year old career woman; the childless married couple; the full-time working mother.

That’s just the tip of society’s surface.

It’s a sad fact. No one is left without judgement. And if we look hard at ourselves, we would probably realise that we too, are quick to make sharp-tongued remarks.

So, here’s my resolution. The next time I’m about to let something fly out of my loose cannon, I will bite my tongue. I will sit on my hands.

Once upon an overcast Sunday, at the tail end of an Australian summer, Mama Grace, Papa and the twinlets packed their bright blue carriage, Barney and excitedly headed out for a family outing.

The sojourn was a picturesque garden, tucked away in the outskirts of Sydney’s southern suburbs. Among the adjacent, quaint art gallery, there was a bustle of activity of happy children, a clown and balloons. There was even a “dinosaur petting station” for the very brave kids.

But what put the biggest smile on Mama Grace’s face , from the moment they arrived, was hearing the sweet, soulful tunes coming from the grooviest, coolest RnB and Soul band in town.

The boys ready to play on our wedding day

For the familiar songs they were playing brought back all those wonderful memories of her wedding day.

15 months later, Mama Grace and her family were reunited with her wedding band. The very same one that, at the wedding reception, let her take the mic to sing a Michael Jackson number.

Unsurprisingly (considering his home-schooled, rigorous, musical training…) there was a new member to this band’s fan base.

In the middle of the garden, there was Little K: Cutting a groove, taking the spotlight:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U25WF2dc364]

Just like his Mama, many, many moons ago, dressed as a bride with him and his twin brother in her tummy.

What was expected to be simply a lazy jazzy Sunday, turned out to be a day reliving beautiful nostalgia, a day that saw the very beginnings of this family.

Special Acknowledgement:

When special recollections are as vivid as yesterday, an expression of thanks to those who helped create those moments are never belated.

So, here is a huge thank you to Peter and the guys for making our wedding so very special, helping us make the perfect day – filled with funky times and joyous moments on the dance floor.

MG: But, sayang*, you’ll fall over and hurt yourself and cry. And you don’t like to cry…

LK: Yayayayayaaaa !!! Nya nyaaa !!!

(He scrunches his face while pointing his finger furiously at his mother)

In midst negotiation talks with Little K: "Nyaah, nyaaah !!!"

Then, just as he starts to lose his balance and wobble on the play chair, Little N totters by and pushes his brother off the chair and…CRASH !!!

There are tears, screams, yelps from both twinlets for at least 10 minutes. (Which in parenthood time is an eternity). And then another 15 minutes after that, Little K is back on the chair…sitting on it in squat position. Again.

Having learnt nothing from the previous encounter.

Little K and his troublesome playchair

Children and reasoning ?

I believe this is going to be a torturous, continuous battle.

Let the negotiation games begin…

But hey, at least the fog is finally lifting…

*Sayang (Pronounced: “SAH-young”) is an Indonesian term of affection for “Darling”. It can be used to call your lover, a dear friend or your crazy 13 month old twin son when trying to get him to see reason as he dangerously stands on furniture or other high objects.

P.S If there are any experienced parents out there with any successful tips on how to negotiate or reason with a 13 month old, please drop me a line. SOS…

About Me…

Indonesian-born, Grace spent extensive time living and working overseas, primarily in Japan. She now resides in Sydney where she is mum to identical twin boys and wife to an avid surfer. While she has happily replaced office life with motherhood, Grace has discovered that a 10 year career in corporate sales and being fluent in 3 languages is futile when dealing with toddler tantrums and singing “The Wheels On The Bus”